


Coping Mechanisms

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [14]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 19:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Alistair isn't handling the anniversary of his father's death well.





	Coping Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Reacting to the other one crying about something.

James finds him on the floor, sobbing and shaking so badly that the bottle of bourbon is sloshing onto the hardwood. Alistair isn’t embarrassed about being found crying; he’s not usually an especially emotional person, but James is his boyfriend and as such Alistair doesn’t mind letting his guard down a bit around him. No, the reason Alistair takes one look at James and cries harder, the guilt surging up inside him at having his boyfriend see him this way, is because James has never seen him drink like this, and if Alistair had had his way, he never would have.

James crouches down, getting to his knees and taking in the four other (empty) bottles by Alistair’s feet. Carefully, he reaches out and curls his fingers around the neck of the bourbon. With some reluctance, Alistair allows it to be pried out of his hand. “I think you’ve had enough,” James murmurs.

Alistair shudders, his hands clenching around nothing. He wants it back, wants to keep drinking until he blacks out because everything is too much for him to handle right now and this is how he deals with it. James sets the bourbon out of his reach and gathers Alistair up in his arms, cradling him like a baby. “Talk to me,” he says softly.

Another wave of tears surges out of him, and they bring with them a tide of words that Alistair can’t hold back. “My father died today. Not…not _today_ , today, it was years ago, this is just the anniversary, but I _miss him_ and I just got off the phone with my sister and I can’t…I can’t…” he trails off, straining in James’s grip, reaching out for the bottle.

James laces their fingers together and brings his arm back to his chest. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I don’t _want you_ ,” Alistair sobs. “ _I don’t want you_.”

“You have me anyway.” James nudges to bottle a little further away with his foot. “Come on, darling. Why don’t we go to bed?”

He won’t be able to sleep, not like this. Another few bottles and maybe he’ll black out, maybe it’ll be enough to block out the waves of guilt and fear and anger, but he’s not there yet, and James is _taking this away from him_.

Still, he stands at James’s coaxing, stumbles along with him as James guides him to the bedroom. He lets James undress him silently, lets his boyfriend tuck him into bed and climb in behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. Alistair is still shaking. The tear tracks feel permanently etched into his face. But he lets James’s arm trap him on the bed.

Tomorrow they’ll probably need to have a conversation about this, and that only adds to the mountain of guilt and fear that feels close to erupting in Alistair’s chest. But tonight, James is here. He’s here and he’s not leaving like everyone else has left Alistair. And tonight, that has to be enough.


End file.
